


This is all I'm asking for

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Kink!verse [14]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Canon Compliant, Christmas Smut, Episode: s04e13 Merry Christmas Johnny Rose, Kink... pre-negotiation? I guess?, Laughter During Sex, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, POV David Rose, Patrick Brewer: Service Top, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Spreader Bars, Switching, Thirsty Bottom Patrick Brewer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: But by the time they clean up after the party, and Patrick tactfully offers to take the garbage bags out to the shed to give the Roses a bit of family time, it’s well after eleven and David can only assume all their plans for the evening are out the window.That is, until they turn out of the motel parking lot and instead of Patrick putting his hand on David’s knee like usual it lands halfway up his thigh, fingers tracing absent circles around his inseam, and David realises that at least one part of the plan is still very much on the table.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Kink!verse [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768552
Comments: 48
Kudos: 241





	This is all I'm asking for

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another kink!verse instalment! Reading the earlier stories is not required (though, as the very biased author I obviously recommend it); they stand alone and are essentially canon-compliant (just with a different first meeting and their relationship being a month longer than canon) so that folks can tap out of any kinks/fetishes/etc that aren't for them as we go.
> 
> Please assume that if you don't see something being negotiated on-screen, they've discussed it off-screen. Also, just a reminder to please not take your kink advice from fanfic. Do your research first, and not from AO3.
> 
> Title is, of course, from Mariah Carey.

David had  _ plans _ for Christmas Eve, is the thing. Sure, maybe those plans were to drink eggnog and watch Love Actually and then have a lot of very loud Christmas sex to take advantage of Ray being in Winnipeg with his family for the holidays, but they were still plans that David was looking forward to. And yes, David has to admit the party was lovely, and it was nice to see his dad happy. And he has missed celebrating the holidays with his family, more than he would have thought he would. But by the time they clean up after the party, and Patrick tactfully offers to take the garbage bags out to the shed to give the Roses a bit of family time, it’s well after eleven and David can only assume all their plans for the evening are out the window.

That is, until they turn out of the motel parking lot and instead of Patrick putting his hand on David’s knee like usual it lands halfway up his thigh, fingers tracing absent circles around his inseam, and David realises that at least one part of the plan is still very much on the table.

Maybe literally.

Still, it’s a bit of a surprise when the second the front door is closed behind them Patrick slams him against it, his lips finding the spot under David’s jaw that makes his knees buckle as David drops his bag in favour of gripping Patrick’s shoulders, trying to stay upright. 

“Do you want something?” David gasps. He can feel Patrick’s face stretch into a grin against his neck, nipping gently into the skin there.

“Do you?” Patrick counters, his hands sliding down to David’s hips to keep them in place as he grinds into him. The tips of his fingers slide under David’s sweater, just barely grazing the sensitive skin on David’s stomach but it’s enough to make him shiver, a loud thunk echoing through the room as his head drops back to hit the door.

“Please,” David groans. He sort of thinks he should be embarrassed about how quickly Patrick can reduce him to a shaking, begging mess but it feels too good, Patrick’s weight pressing so hard against him he suspects he could wrap his legs around Patrick’s waist and Patrick could probably just hold him there. He’s not going to try, though, because he’s not quite sure enough that it won’t end in a hospital visit and that would really kill the mood. “Fuck, fuck me, please.”

Patrick hums thoughtfully against his throat. “I have a plan, if you’re up for it,” he murmurs. David doesn’t even make the obvious joke because while sex with Patrick is always fantastic and frequently mindblowing, sex where Patrick has a  _ plan _ tends to be the sort of sex that ends up with David trembling and sobbing and biting through a pillow and coming so hard he almost blacks out. David is never, ever, not going to at least entertain one of Patrick’s plans. 

“Tell me the plan,” he demands, and Patrick pulls back to look him in the eye.

“I’m going to fuck you, like you wanted,” he says, “but you’re not going to come while I do. You’re going to hold on so that when I’m done, you can fuck me.”

David’s wordless moan seems overly loud in the empty house. “God, that’s so hot, yes please, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Patrick grins and it’s — almost bashful? Which isn’t an expression David is used to seeing him wear. “I’m glad, David. I’ve been ready for you to fuck me all day.”

It sounds like dirty talk. David would assume that it was just dirty talk except that, well, there’s that look on Patrick’s face and his eyes are sliding away, and… 

“When you say  _ ready,” _ David says, his voice suddenly hoarse as his hands move of their own volition to Patrick’s belt. “Do you mean, like, emotionally, or…” 

Patrick lets his eyes fall between them, watching David’s hands without a word as he unbuckles the belt before unzipping Patrick’s fly so he’s got enough room to get his hands under the waistband of his jeans and underwear, his hands groping into the soft flesh of Patrick’s ass. “Thinking about it all day, maybe, or… oh, Jesus,  _ fuck.” _ He was pretty sure knew what he was going to find but it still sends a jolt through him when his fingers brush lightly against the plug, just enough pressure that Patrick’s eyelids slip shut with a choked-off moan.

All day. He’s been with Patrick all day, between the shop and setting up for the party, and the whole time Patrick has been—

“Okay,” David says quickly. “If you want me to last long enough for this plan we need to go upstairs, like, right now.”

Patrick opens his eyes; his pupils are blown wide, barely a ring of colour visible around them. “Yeah,” he says softly, rolling his hips against David’s one more time before stepping back. He bends down to pick up David’s bag before turning, his belt still hanging loosely by his sides as he makes his way towards the stairs. And now David’s looking for it he can see that Patrick’s gait is just a tiny bit more stilted than normal, his posture a fraction pulled back to try and accommodate— 

“Ow, fuck,” David hisses. His eyes have been locked on Patrick as he followed him and so he misses the base of the stairs, running his foot into them instead of stepping up. “Shut up,” he adds when he sees Patrick’s shoulders start to shake.

“I didn’t say anything,” Patrick protests, but his voice is full of laughter. In revenge, David takes the stairs two at a time until he’s plastered against Patrick’s back on the step below him and then he grips Patrick’s hips, grinding deliberately into him right where he knows the plug sits. Patrick hisses, using his free hand to grab one of David’s and pulling it off him as he tugs David up the last few stairs and into his bedroom where David’s bag is dropped on the floor as Patrick hauls him in for a kiss that is pure  _ want. _

“Too many clothes,” David mutters against Patrick’s lips, and feels Patrick nodding in agreement before he steps back just far enough to peel David’s sweater carefully over his head; once it’s folded and placed gently on the dresser Patrick tugs his own sweater off with far less fanfare, tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. It’s not until the undershirt follows it that David remembers to move, yanking his t-shirt over his head before he kneels down to remove his shoes. The knot has tightened and it takes him a minute to pick it open, which means by the time he’s standing back up barefoot Patrick is already naked, watching David patiently. David smirks at him before making quick work of his trousers and underwear; once he’s naked he sits down on the bed. 

“How do you want me?” he asks, and Patrick bites his lip. 

“Okay, so I might have— I had a plan,” he says in a rush. “Just— don't laugh, okay?”

It’s an odd request but before David can ask for clarification Patrick reaches into the closet and pulls out a spreader bar. They’ve had some great times with this particular bar, but that’s not what David’s thinking about as he stares at it, lost for words. 

“Maybe it’s a bit much,” Patrick says into the silence. “I was just feeling a little…”

“Festive?” David suggests when Patrick trails off. The tinsel wound around the length of the bar is relatively inoffensive as far as tinsel goes, a muted silver as opposed to a more garish colour, and he’s surprised to realise he doesn’t really mind it. As far as incorporating Christmas into their sex life is concerned, it could certainly be a lot worse. 

“If I hear anything even vaguely resembling a ‘filled with Christmas spirit’ joke, I’m safewording out,” he warns, and Patrick snorts. 

“I promise, David.”

“Good,” David says with relief. “So, which way?”

“I thought, on your front?” Patrick half-states, half-asks and David nods quickly; it’s not a position that stays comfortable for very long, but somehow he suspects that won’t be an issue tonight. He flips over onto his hands and knees before dropping his shoulders onto the bed, arms underneath him so his hands are between his legs. 

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” Patrick whispers, and his voice is ragged. David glances around past his knee in surprise — it’s not often Patrick loses control during sex, and never this early — to see him gripping himself tightly, biting his lip hard as he stares at David spread out in front of him.

Frankly, David’s a little relieved. He feels on edge already, like the slightest touch might set him off, and he’s not sure how long he can hang onto his self-control for. 

Hopefully, just a little longer than Patrick can. 

“Come on,  _ please,” _ he groans, and that seems to shake Patrick out of his stupor. He comes around to the side of the bed, reaching into the bedside drawer to grab the lube and a couple of condoms, tossing them next to David’s knee before he climbs up onto the bed. 

“I’m going to put this on now, okay?” he says, and David nods before he realises that at this angle, Patrick probably can’t see him.

“Yes please,” he says instead, and feels the cuff wrapping around one ankle. Once it’s on Patrick taps the other knee and he spreads his legs a little wider before the other ankle is cuffed too. Then Patrick presses a kiss to the small of his back before reaching for one of David’s hands, securing one wrist and then the other to the bar. When he’s done, he strokes one hand softly down David’s hip.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, and David shivers. Now he’s strapped in he can’t see Patrick but he can hear the click of the lube bottle being opened and he has just enough time to take a deep breath before one of Patrick’s fingers is pressing against him, just circling for a moment before he slides in and David exhales shakily. He presses his face into the pillow and breathes slowly as Patrick works him open, methodical and purposeful as he adds a second finger, then a third until David is panting, pressing back against him and trying to take more. 

“Okay, okay,” Patrick laughs. He pulls his fingers free and David whimpers, but then he hears the telltale sound of the condom wrapper and then, after a slight pause, the lube being opened again. Patrick moans somewhere behind him, and then lets out a self-deprecating laugh.

“I’m not going to last long,” he says quietly as his hands grip tight to David’s hips, cock pressing up against him.

“That’s good, then I can—  _ fuck,” _ he groans as Patrick slides smoothly in.

“That’s the plan, yes,” Patrick gasps, no hint of his usual teasing. “David, this feels— holy fuck, I— oh my  _ God.” _

That’s right. David forgot, for a second, about the plug. 

“I know,” he murmurs, because he does. He’s fucked people with plugs and dildos and actual cocks in his ass, and it’s always intense, always just the right side of overwhelming. 

“So good,” Patrick croaks, pulling back before slamming his hips forward again, his fingers digging tight into David’s skin like they’re the only thing keeping him upright. “David, fuck.”

With his wrists attached to the spreader bar David has no way to brace himself against Patrick’s thrusts except for nestling his shoulders into the mattress more so that’s what he does, his head twisted to the side so he can breathe as Patrick fucks into him, over and over, making his dick slap hard against his stomach with each thrust and leaving a mess. It’s not long at all before Patrick’s movements get more uncoordinated, his breaths coming faster as he pushes into David two, three more times before stilling.

“God, David,” he whispers as he pulls out and David just waits. He’s unbelievably hard, feels like the slightest touch will set him off and he’s glad it takes a minute for Patrick to dispose of the condom because it helps him calm down a fraction. Then Patrick’s back, pressing soft kisses to David’s thigh as he fumbles with the bar, untying his wrists first so David can press himself up and shake out his shoulders while his ankles are being released. He pulls himself into a sitting position and sees Patrick still holding the spreader bar, looking down at it with a small frown. Before David can ask if everything’s okay Patrick gives himself a little shake, placing the bar on the floor and out of the way before he collapses onto his back, grinning up at David.

“Your turn.”

David doesn’t need to be told twice — he shuffles until he’s crouched in between Patrick’s legs and then hoists them over his shoulders so that Patrick’s thighs are bracketing his ears. Patrick’s erection is flagging slightly but not gone and when David mouths gently at the base of his cock he hears a shuddering exhale, Patrick’s legs trembling around his head.

David moves his lips lower, lapping at Patrick’s balls as he sucks them into his mouth and feels Patrick’s hands come flying into his hair. They tangle there for a moment, Patrick moaning brokenly above him, before there’s a sharp tug and David is being pulled back.

“So good, David, but I need— fuck me,” he gasps.

David turns his head, presses a kiss to the soft skin of Patrick’s thigh. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know, you’ve been ready for it all day, so fucking hot, you have no idea.” He shuffles back a little so that it’s Patrick’s calves hooked over his shoulders, so that David can look at him while slowly, carefully, easing the plug out. As soon as the plug is free, eliciting a small whine from Patrick, David winces in sympathy. 

“Fuck, honey.” Patrick’s hole is puffy and tender-looking — he’s had this plug in for what, fifteen hours, sixteen? Too long, in any case; far too long, but David can table that conversation for later. “Are you sure you’re okay for me to fuck you?” 

“Please,” Patrick whispers, his voice cracking. “Please fuck me, David, need you inside me, please,  _ please.” _

David swallows hard, focusing on keeping his breathing steady. They’ve had a lot of sex in the time they’ve been together, and sometimes Patrick asks for things and sometimes tells him to do things, but he’s never heard Patrick  _ beg _ before. It’s doing more for him than he would have guessed.

“Okay,” he says reassuringly. “I’ve got you, I just need to— first let me—” 

He shuffles closer again, wrapping his hands around Patrick’s thighs to brace himself and letting spit pool on his tongue before he licks a long, slow stripe across Patrick’s hole, soothing the sensitive skin there. He can feel Patrick shuddering around him, hears him moan something that may or may not be David’s name as he bucks up into the touch. He licks again and again until Patrick is a little less hot under his tongue and then he presses in, unable to hold back a groan at how open Patrick is for him. 

“David.” Patrick sounds  _ wrecked _ and when David pulls back the first thing he notices is that Patrick is fully hard again, precome pooling at the head and David can’t help himself, he sucks Patrick down, letting the taste burst over his tongue until Patrick is pushing him off and away.

“David, fuck me,  _ please.” _

David hums. “Seeing as you asked so nicely,” he says teasingly. He wriggles back on the bed, letting Patrick’s legs fall to the mattress as he reaches for the condom and lube. He rolls the condom on as quick as he can while Patrick watches him hungrily, before dumping more lube than usual into his hand and slicking himself up. He wants to be slippery, knows that Patrick will be tender from both the plug and the orgasm, wants it to be good for him. Once he’s nice and lubed up he smears the excess around Patrick’s hole, pushing his fingertips in and watching them disappear easily into Patrick’s body. 

_ “David.” _

“Mm-hm, okay.” He gets his hands on Patrick’s thighs again and pulls them up as he gets into position, until Patrick takes the hint and wraps them tight around David’s waist. Then he’s pressing in, in, watching Patrick’s face carefully for any hint of pain but his face is relaxed, eyelids half-shut and fluttering until David bottoms out and then they fly open, a blissed-out smile spreading across his face.

“Thank you,” he breathes, and  _ Jesus. _ David sinks his teeth into his bottom lip so hard he can taste metal, his fingers digging tight into Patrick’s legs as he pours all his self-control into not coming immediately. Once he feels a little less on edge he starts to move, slowly at first even as Patrick presses up to meet him. When he picks up the pace Patrick groans loudly, his head thrown back into the pillow as sweat trickles down his throat and David can’t help himself, he lets go of Patrick’s legs so he can lean down and lap it up, his tongue dragging along Patrick’s neck.

“David,” Patrick pants into his ear. “I need— I need—” he gulps like he can’t get enough air and David rears back a little, surprised. Patrick has never had trouble asking for something.

“Whatever it is, take it,” he says, softer than he means to. He trusts Patrick, knows he wouldn’t ask for something he wasn’t sure David would be okay with. “Take what you need,” he adds with a grin, and knows from the soft smile and the eyeroll Patrick gives him that he, too, remembers when David said those words before. 

“I just—” Patrick huffs, then grabs David’s hands and hauls them up above his head so his wrists are trapped underneath them, David’s weight holding him down. 

“Oh,” David says quietly, understanding dawning. He should have guessed, with the way Patrick lingered over the spreader bar, with the begging. “Yes, God, fuck.” The next time he pulls out his thrust back in is sharp and Patrick’s back arches off the bed, wrists pressing up into David’s hands.

“David,” he gasps. “God, that’s so good, fuck me, fuck me.”

“Thought I was,” David mutters. Whatever remark Patrick opens his mouth to make in reply is cut off with a moan when David thrusts into him again, nice and deep.

“Yeah,” Patrick groans. “That’s so good, David, hold me down, fuck me, God.” And David tries, he really does, but he can’t quite choke back the laugh that’s bubbling up in his chest.

“What?” 

“I just…” David shakes his head. “You’re being so bossy about being  _ held down.” _

“Do you want me to stop?” Patrick asks, eyes twinkling, and David can’t help pressing in to kiss the smirk off his face.

“Never,” he breathes against Patrick’s lips just before their mouths crash together, and then Patrick’s tongue is too busy to be demanding anyway. David can feel the heat coiling low in his stomach, knows he’s close, tightens his grip on Patrick’s wrists just a little as he breaks the kiss and presses their foreheads together. 

“Fuck,” is all he can choke out and then he’s coming, Patrick’s face blurring underneath him as his vision swims, his whole body trembling through it. He must float away for a minute because the next thing he’s aware of is Patrick peppering soft kisses along his jaw, his arms flexing slightly under David’s hands. He releases Patrick’s wrists quickly before gripping the base of the condom and sliding out, ignoring Patrick’s pout as he ties the condom off and drops it on the floor to deal with in a moment before shuffling back on the bed, wrapping his lips around Patrick’s leaking cock and sinking down.

“Oh,” Patrick groans, his hands reaching down to grip David’s hair. “David— so close, fuck—” 

David hums in acknowledgement, his tongue swirling as he slides one hand between Patrick’s cheeks, two fingers circling his rim before he slides them in. Patrick gasps, thrusts up once and then stills and David can taste him, swallows it all down eagerly, keeps moving his tongue until Patrick starts to soften in his mouth before he pulls away. His knees finally give out and he collapses on the mattress, his head by Patrick’s thigh and legs hanging off the side of the bed.

“Holy shit, David,” Patrick says after a long moment, reaching a hand down to stroke David’s hair.

“Mm.” David leans into the touch, letting his eyes fall closed. Just for a second.

“Nope,” Patrick says loudly, making him jump. “You’re not falling asleep, we have to  _ shower.” _ He makes no actual move to get up until David shuts his eyes again and then he’s moving, hauling David upright and pulling them both in the direction of the bathroom. They wait in silence for the water to heat up and then crowd into the shower, enacting a well-practised routine of who steps under the spray when. As David rubs shampoo into his hair, he watches the way Patrick runs one hand slowly around the other wrist. He looks… puzzled, almost, though there’s a small smile on his face as he presses into the spot where David’s fingers were.

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” David says quietly, and Patrick starts. “It can be a later conversation, or a never conversation. But if you want to talk about it, we can.”

Patrick’s quiet for a long moment, staring down at his wrists. “It’s just— it’s not really what we do, is it?”

David shrugs. “It’s not what we’ve done. It can be what we do, if you wanted. I’m versatile.”

Patrick snorts a laugh.

“In  _ bed,” _ David huffs. “I am versatile  _ in bed.  _ I like what we do. If you wanted something else, I’d like that too. Hey,” he adds when Patrick bites his lip, pulling him in for a kiss even though it ends up rinsing some of his shampoo off early. “I like everything we do.”

“I do too,” Patrick says, his arms sliding around David’s waist. “I just… didn’t really expect to like that.”

“You know, a smart person told me once you’re allowed to like or not like anything you want,” David says quietly, and Patrick rolls his eyes at him as David ducks under the showerhead, scrubbing the shampoo out of his hair. As soon as he’s done Patrick tugs him close again, pressing a kiss to his neck, his jaw, behind his ear.

“I don’t think… all the time,” he says quietly, his lips pressed up to David’s ear even though they’re alone in the house. “But sometimes, occasionally… I’d like that. Yes.” 

David grins where Patrick can’t see him. He has a few private opinions on why Patrick clings so hard to control in bed, but he’s not going to share them until Patrick is ready to hear them — even admitting he wants to give it up sometimes is impressive.

“Just tell me,” he says instead, “when you want to switch it up. And we can.” 

Patrick presses his lips to David’s shoulder. “Okay, David,” he murmurs. “And hey—” he tilts his head, smiling up at him. “Merry Christmas.”

David can’t help it — he takes Patrick’s face in his hands and kisses him again. “Merry Christmas, Patrick.”

**Author's Note:**

> (No, seriously, **do not** leave a buttplug in for 16 hours without working up to it. Patrick's an idiot.)
> 
> 55,000 words later we've reached the end of season four! We're a third of the way there, woohoo! 💖 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
